Austen's Twilight
by jaxidy
Summary: How Twilight might have looked if Jane Austen had written it first. Balls, dinner parties, and many interesting exchanges bewteen Miss Isabella Swan and Mr. Edward Cullen...
1. Chapter 1

"_The very thing that we have always been rather afraid of; for we should not have liked to have her at such a distance from us, for months together, not able to come if anything was to happen; but you see everything turns out for the best." - Miss Bates in EMMA by Jane Austen_

~*~

The small town of Forks, in the likeness of nearly all towns of it's size and situation, had a very long memory. It was the sort of small town where all of it's inhabitants were similarly situated and therefore intimately acquainted. The frequent occurrence of rain and storms which beleaguered the town played a considerable role in prompting such intimacy. There were many days of disagreeable weather where the women of Forks could find no greater employment than to visit one another on a nearly daily basis 'to help pass the long and rainy afternoons.'

Said Mrs. Newton to her friend Mrs. Stanley on the occasion of their eighth visit to one another within a fortnight,

"I can't stand to sit idly in my parlor observing the dreadful way in which the rain is spoiling my favorite part of the flower garden. I thought you, my dear friend, would have some pleasant news to occupy my mind."

However Mrs. Newton was disappointed as there was seldom anything new or interesting to report; even by someone who boasted as many connections as Mrs. Stanley.

With all of the residents visiting one another so often, it seemed inevitable that the same stories would be told any number of times. If the visit lasted long enough, the terrible story of Mr. Charles Swan's wife's tragic and untimely death would always find it's way into the conversation. Towns as small as Forks seldom suffered tragedies, and the story of Mrs. Swan's death was one of it's saddest. There were few stories that warranted so much retelling. In general, there were just few stories.

Mr. Swan did not remarry; this was the report that nearly always followed the story of his wife's tragic passing. The tale of how no man had ever been more devastated. Despite his agreeable age and reasonable fortune; he could not bring himself to create another such union and so he instead lived in solitude. This decision earned him many sympathetic looks from his neighbors and a never ending supply of invitations to dine in the 'agreeable company' of his pitying acquaintances.

Miss Isabella Swan was Charles Swan's only child. She was sent to live with her mother's sister when it became evident that her father's sorrow rendered him incapable of caring for her. She was only three years old at the time.

This was the part of the story where the person reporting these unfortunate circumstances would shake their head sadly, but admit that it was for the best. The room would not hesitate to agree. It was certainly in the young girl's best interest to be brought up by such an aunt. It would be impossible for a man as devastated as Mr. Swan to bring up an accomplished daughter who possessed the delicacy of a well mannered woman which could only be taught through the example of another such woman.

It was a shame that the aunt lived so far away, this was the statement that was always added in a regretful tone. Mr. Charles Swan did not have occasion to see his daughter often. Miss Swan had visited her father exactly three times since her mother's death, and the residents of Forks knew of only four times that he had been to visit her at his late wife's sister's estate.

On the rare occasions that Miss Swan visited, her father had many invitations for them to dine in the company of their curious neighbors. Many of Mr. Swan's closest acquaintances had had occasion to observe them together, and could say with easy certainty that they seemed to possess genuine affection for one another.

The story would then come it a close with one or another of the women reporting that when last seen at the age of twelve; Isabella Swan had shown great potential and accomplishment and could only be described as an admirable young lady with a very agreeable countenance. Again the room would agree, and the conversation would turn; either to whether or not anyone had heard the latest story of Mr. Tyler Crowley's run-away horse, or to the outrages price and meager selection of hat ribbon at Mr. Newton's store. (Though the latter was never mentioned if Mrs. Newton was present, and she nearly always was.)

The news of Miss Isabella Swan's expected visit to her father was one of the most exciting reports of the spring. It caused a considerable stir among the young people of Forks who immediately dashed to one another's homes that afternoon in an attempt to be the first to communicate the news. As a result, almost no one was at home when their visitors arrived and many of them were only able to pass the news when they came across one another on the road.

Many reports passed.

Miss Angela Webber was told by Miss Jessica Stanley that Miss Swan was forced out of her aunt's house because of a disagreeable attachment that was discovered between Miss Swan and a close acquaintance of her Uncle's who had some questionable family connections and an uncertain history of his own.

"Are you quite sure?" Miss Weber replied to this report as they walked arm in arm down the lane. "Mrs. Crowley told my mother that Miss Swan is returning to live with her father because her dear aunt is now a widow and no longer has the means to care for her."

Miss Stanley, however, was adamant about the truth of her story and the obvious falsities of the report Miss Webber had heard. "You are mistaken friend, for I have just had the news from my mother who had it from Mrs. Cheney. I came home just as she preparing to depart, my mother communicated all of the particulars to me with Mrs. Cheney nodding in agreement all the while. And you know how dreadfully boring Mrs. Cheney can be. She would never pass along a report that wasn't confirmed as the absolute truth, which I daresay is extremely tiresome; and you must be aware of how Mrs. Crowley stretches the truth and spreads innocent falsehoods about town for no other reason than that it amuses her to cause a stir. You must never trust a thing that woman tells your mother. No my dear friend, I choose to believe my mother's report from Mrs. Cheney above your mother's report from Mrs. Crowley. We must watch this Miss Swan carefully, I think, and keep a wary eye on her at all times. I expect she will be the cause of much trouble among our social circle."

Miss Stanley didn't look the least troubled as she communicated this alarming news accompanied by her own dark predictions to her horrified friend. On the contrary, she looked as though she would welcome any trouble Miss Isabella Swan saw occasion to cause among their circle of intimate acquaintances. She intended to stay close to the young lady for the duration of her visit. Miss Stanley knew how many residents would find Isabella Swan a fascinating addition to their limited and unvarying society, and she intended to stay very near her so as to receive her share of the attention.

She added a moment later, with her first real look of concern. "If Miss Swan has her sights set on marrying someone among her father's acquaintance, I expect Mr. Michael Newton will be of particular interest to her." Another brief moment passed in which Miss Stanley convinced herself undoubtedly that this could be the only reason for Miss Swan's coming to Forks to visit her father. She made a resolve to herself and decided quite determinedly that she would warn Mr. Newton of Miss Swan's reputation when next they met.

Miss Weber, in her sweet and quiet way, anxiously voiced her hope that the report Mrs. Cheney had communicated would turn out to be a harmless rumor and that Miss Swan would be as quiet and pleasant a girl as she had seemed on her last visit five years before. Miss Stanley vehemently discouraged such a hope and repeated her confidence that they would find Miss Swan quite manipulative and untrustworthy.

Miss Stanley returned from her long stroll with Miss Webber that afternoon, to her mother's latest report that Miss Swan's Uncle had indeed passed away. Her Aunt was forced to move in with her husband's brother and his wife and it was no longer in her power to keep her niece, Miss Swan, as a companion.

These were confirmed as the true motivations behind Miss Swan's upcoming visit to her father two days later when he was invited to dine with Mr. Stanley and his family.

Jessica Stanley though, could not escape the notion that Miss Isabella Swan had certainly heard of the agreeable and eligible Mr. Michael Newton of Forks and could not possibly have any objective other than to secure him in marriage at her earliest convenience.

Miss Stanley anxiously addressed Mr. Swan to inquire as to when they could expect Miss Swan's "much looked forward to" arrival.

Mr. Swan replied that he had hopes of receiving his daughter at Rainier House within six weeks.

Miss Stanley breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied that six weeks was more than enough time to secure Mr. Newton for herself before Miss Swan so much as set eyes on him.


	2. Chapter 2

"_She was small for her age, with no glow of complexion, nor any other striking beauty; exceedingly timid and shy, and shrinking from notice; but her air, though awkward, was not vulgar, her voice was sweet, and when she spoke her countenance was pretty." - MANSFIELD PARK by Jane Austen_

_~*~_

Isabella Swan listened to the rain as it echoed inside of the carriage and she felt particular sympathy for the man outside. The looming clouds she observed through the carriage glass indicated to her that the long journey was nearing it's conclusion.

On the day previous, she received a letter from her father, expressing his intention of intercepting her in her travels upon her reaching Port Angeles. This was as far as could be traveled by coach. The last ten miles of her journey would be completed in her father's company, in his own carriage.

Isabella, having not seen her father in nearly two years, was apprehensive about the length of time in which their company would be forced upon one another inside the quiet confines of the carriage. She was not one who excelled in the art of carrying conversation, even with someone as intimately related to her as her father. Generally people of close relation who shared so many traits of personality as Isabella and her father found much to speak of and their similarities of nature provided many topics of conversation. However, in their situation this was not the case. She was quiet by nature; shy in many respects and took careful pains to avoid situations which might cause her to be considered or observed by those around her. These were traits, she knew she shared with her father. What would they speak of? In what way would she fill the silence? These were the immediate thoughts that vexed her, though on the whole, she was eager to see him again.

In one thing she took comfort, and that was the privacy she was sure to enjoy upon reaching her father's house. Traveling wearied her, she looked forward to an arrival which would grant her the peace and quiet she required in recovering from her fatigue. Her father would not insist on a social gathering in celebration of her arrival; this was a another comfort. Had her father resided in town, or if he had instead been a woman, he would have known that a ball, or in the least, a fine dinner for his closest acquaintances would be expected by his neighbors to promote Isabella's introduction into Forks' society; but he had made no mention of such an event in any of his correspondence and so Isabella concluded happily that no such gathering would take place. Her father would receive his daughter quietly and allow her the solitude she desired in settling in.

With these considerations behind her, her thoughts turned to her aunt. She thought of her with an uncommon mixture of affection and distress. They had parted under difficult circumstances. On the eve of Isabella's departure her aunt had embraced her and declared unhappily, "I do not know how I shall ever do without you!"

Isabella shared these sentiments. It was hard to comprehend how different both of their lives would be without the constant companionship they had enjoyed over the past fourteen years of Isabella's life. She couldn't imagine that a mother's love could be any less genuine that the love her aunt bestowed upon her without falter.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of an inn, interrupting these thoughts. Isabella roused herself and observed through the glass that her father was waiting before the steps. She observed that her father was smiling and this brought her an answering smile of her own.

He approached the door and offered in own hand, in place of the man's, to assist her in stepping down.

"You look well," He observed as he offered her his arm. "How did you leave your aunt?"

Isabella took the arm gratefully, not trusting her footing, as the ground was slippery with mud and replied, "Thank you. My Aunt is a little better, she sends her regards."

Her father's man, Henry, approached with an umbrella and followed them to the carriage door. They hurried forward and the man helped them inside. The carriage was jarred as Isabella's traveling chest was moved from the coach to her father's carriage and then, rather quickly, they were moving.

"How was your journey?" Her father inquired as the carriage started.

"Very pleasant." Isabella replied, "Uneventful."

Her father nodded.

In the quiet of the carriage, Isabella took the liberty of observing her father. "You have not much changed." She spoke after a moment.

"Nor have you." Her father smiled. There was a quiet moment, though the silence was not uncomfortable, in which they both observed the passing buildings of Port Angeles.

"You wrote often of a horse." Her father was first to interrupt the silence. "What became of it?"

Isabella thought fondly of her Uncle's horse which was allowed for her, her own particular use.

"It was sold." She replied. "To help support my Aunt's journey south to her brother's."

"You are fond of riding?" Her father's next question.

Isabella nodded. It was one of the few activities outdoors in which she took pleasure. She knew her father kept only carriage horses. He was not fond of riding; if he had any small distance to travel which did not require his carriage, he walked.

"Well, I have some news then." Her father suddenly looked as though he had something of great excitement to communicate.

"What is it?" Isabella asked curiously.

"I have bought you a horse." He did not pause to let her reply, but continued happily. "My friend, Mr. Black, whom you have met in you previous visits, no longer had any use for it, and, as his son has a new horse of his own, he offered it to me. I had communicated to him that you wrote often of riding and how you seemed to find particular amusement in the sport. He insisted on my purchasing his horse for you. It is particularly gentle and very well trained, as his son, Jacob, who has talent for such things, trained it himself."

Isabella did not know in what way to respond. The prospect of being without a horse at her father's house had been an unpleasant one. She had resigned herself to a future in which riding would be an unattainable pleasure, this unexpected generosity from her father rendered her momentarily speechless.

"Thank you Father!" She exclaimed with unbridled enthusiasm which surprised, even herself, in the moment when she had recovered from her surprise and was able to speak. She paused to regain her composure and continued, "This is good news indeed!"

Her father looked satisfied. "I'm glad you are pleased."

She was indeed, most pleased. This made the prospect of moving to a small town of unvarying society and troublesome weather a slightly less unpleasant one.

After this happy moment, her father cleared his throat and his countenance grew considerably grim. "Now I have something less pleasant to tell you."

Isabella looked worried and her father smiled.

"It is nothing very alarming." He assured her. "It is just that I know we share an aversion to social gatherings and unsought personal attention; we have had an invitation to a large dinner party at the Stanley's tomorrow evening. I'm afraid I could not decline as they changed the date from yesterday to tomorrow to ensure that you would be in town and able to attend. I have suspicions that your coming to Forks has warranted such an invitation. Mrs. Stanley seemed very put out in discovering that I did not intend to have a party of my own to celebrate your arrival and I believe that is why she took it upon herself to plan such a gathering."

As her father expected she would, Isabella looked very distressed. "A large dinner party?" She confirmed.

Her father nodded. "We can depart early." He offered, and the carriage stopped in front of his house, putting an end to the conversation, but not to Isabella's distress.

Her chest was carried upstairs to her usual room. It would now be her permanent dwelling and so she observed it with new eyes. It was a pleasant chamber. The fire was lit and the bed had new linens. She walked to her window and observed the pleasant prospect before her. Her window faced south and afforded her a view of the surrounding wood and a portion of the road. There was a large tree whose branches nearly brushed the glass.

Her father introduced her to Hannah, the maid, and then with the urging "to make herself comfortable" he departed.

She dismissed Hannah and sat down at the writing desk situated near the window. She wrote to her aunt to communicate her safe arrival, and then stared out at the deplorable weather and contemplated how best to survive tomorrow's dinner at the Stanley's.


	3. Chapter 3

_~*~_

"_He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." - PRIDE & PREJUDICE by Jane Austen_

_~*~_

First Impressions

At first Isabella thought that the room must be very crowded. She wondered that Mrs. Stanley would invite so many people as to make the gathering uncomfortable.

In crossing the room, however, she realized that it was not crowded in whole, but that the majority of it's inhabitants were pressed close around her, eager to be among the first to catch a glimpse of the newest addition to their small society, as her father led her forward to greet their hosts.

Mr. Stanley was a slight man, but Isabella observed something kind in his eyes and voice as he made the introduction. Her father bowed graciously, and turned to his daughter, "Allow me the honor of presenting to you my daughter, Miss Isabella Swan."

Isabella dropped her gaze, and a curtsy, simultaneously and Mrs. Stanley grasped her hands in the instant that her father finished speaking.

"We are so pleased that you are here Miss Swan. My daughters have spoke of almost nothing else since we first heard of your coming home to your dear Father."

Mrs. Stanley, a small, stout woman of middle age, had the air of someone accustomed to getting her way. She had a sweet face that was framed in dark curls streaked with silver. Her eyes were bright, though perhaps set a little too close together, and seemed never to cease in movement. Nothing passed Mrs. Stanley unnoticed, and Isabella had the uneasy notion of being critically observed.

Isabella's blush deepened when she noticed the continued attention she was receiving from the entire room, and the way nearby conversations were hushed in anticipation of her response. "Thank you Mrs. Stanley." She felt her father squeeze her arm in encouragement, "I'm pleased to be here, thank you so much for the kind invitation."

"Are you not the sweetest creature!" Mrs. Stanley beamed and took Isabella's arm companionably. "I will introduce you to my daughters at once, for they would love nothing better than to make your acquaintance."

Mrs. Stanley led Isabella away from her father who was still in conversation with Mr. Stanley near the door. He gave her an encouraging nod before his face was lost in a sea of curls and feathers. Mrs. Stanley paused several times on the short journey across the room to introduce Miss Swan and inquire among her curious acquaintances whether or not anyone knew where her eldest daughter could be found.

At last a woman Mrs. Stanley introduced to Isabella as a Mrs. Cope, informed them that the eldest Miss Stanley was last observed standing next to the mantle in conversation with Mr. Michael Newton. As these reports were being made, a maid approached Mrs. Stanley who excused herself as she was needed that moment in the kitchen.

"I will leave you in the capable hands of Mrs. Cope, Miss Swan. You can want no one better when endeavoring to be introduced into our humble society. I regret that I am needed this moment, but I will rejoin you as soon as I can."

Mrs. Cope was a large woman of about fifty years of age who possessed an abundance of unruly red hair that seemed already to be trying to escape the binds which forced it to reside atop her head. Her dress, a vivid purple, seemed also to be struggling in it's attempts to keep the large woman clad, and was appallingly tight and looked as though any one of it's seams could burst at any given moment.

Mrs. Cope giggled heartily at Mrs. Stanley's assurances to Isabella that no better chaperone could be wanted and took Isabella's arm in the same moment that Mrs. Stanley released it. "I confess I am somewhat of a busy body." She giggled again, making her red curls shake as though they were laughing themselves, of their own accord and Isabella smiled. "I am a widow, you see," she continued, "and what else can one such as I be expected to contribute to a party of this nature, but to find agreeable company for all of our young people? Come Miss Swan, I shall introduce you to my nephew; give him the pleasure of being the first young man to make your acquaintance. He will be flattered, I have no doubt."

With this speech, Isabella felt herself being pulled purposefully across the room again, this time towards a young man, alone, observing a framed landscape that adorned the east wall.

"Mr. Yorkie!" His aunt called out as they approached, causing several heads to turn and drawing many curious glances in their direction. Isabella decided in that moment that she didn't much care for Mrs. Cope, and doubted very much that any nephew of hers would be an agreeable acquaintance.

The young man turned, and with a smile, revealed that unbecomingly small teeth were a family trait that the young man shared with his large aunt. Isabella politely returned the smile as they were introduced.

"You must thank me, nephew," Mrs. Cope informed him after the appropriate exchanges had been made, "for I believe you are the first young man to make Miss Swan's acquaintance, she has not yet had the opportunity of meeting any of our other young people. Do you not count yourself fortunate?"

"Indeed, Aunt." Mr. Yorkie eagerly turned to Isabella with these words, "You come from the east, I believe, Miss Swan?"

"Yes." Isabella replied, fearing to appear rude by stepping back when Mr. Yorkie came closer.

"The climate in that part of the country is quite warm, I believe. Much drier than we have here, would you not agree?" Without giving her time to form a reply, he continued, "Though from the fairness of your complexion, Miss Swan, had I not known from whence you came, I would have assumed that you were from somewhere nearby, London perhaps, or possible Surrey, though it is also east, though not so far east as Kent, Surrey shares our tendency for damp weather. Indeed, had I not known any better, I would have thought you were visiting from Surrey. You are quite fair."

"Yes indeed," Mrs. Cope agreed, "You have very fine skin, Miss Swan. You must have taken great care to keep out of the sun, you need not take such troubles while you are in this part of the country, fortunately, for we seldom have the inconvenient hindrance of sunlight."

Isabella, who was distinctly aware of the scarcity of sunlight in this dreary place, and was already lamenting it's loss, did not find these sentiments comforting and, unsure how she should reply, was saved from answering by the return of Mrs. Stanley and a young lady who looked to be about fifteen years of age.

"There you are, Miss Swan." Mrs. Stanley approached the small group and brought the young lady with her. "Please let me introduce you to my youngest daughter, Miss Mary Stanley; my eldest daughter still eludes me, but the younger Miss Stanley was no less eager to make your acquaintance."

The young lady bobbed gracefully, and smiled timidly.

Mr. Yorkie bowed, and spoke before Isabella, which she thought was ill-mannered, though no one else seemed to take notice. "Miss Mary Stanley," he addressed the young lady, "I was just admiring your work when I had the pleasant interruption of making Miss Swan's acquaintance. Your paintings grow more accomplished with each passing day, I daresay."

The young lady blushed and allowed herself to be led toward the landscape that Mr. Yorkie had been observing previously, in the grasps of Mrs. Cope's stout arm and Mr. Yorkie's equally stout enthusiasm.

Mrs. Stanley sighed and confided quietly to Isabella, "I must apologize for leaving you at the mercy of Mrs. Cope, Miss Swan, I'm afraid she is rather… well, I suppose if you are here long, you shall see for yourself. Come now, I am determined that you should meet my eldest daughter. Ah what luck! She is approaching us now!"

A smiling young lady, with curls to match her mother's, though very small, like her father, and wearing a becoming gown of yellow, descended on them.

"Oh, Mother!" She hurried forward and grasp Isabella intimately by one hand, "Is this the lovely Miss Swan?"

"Indeed," her mother smiled, "Miss Swan, I have the great pleasure of acquainting you with my eldest daughter, this is Miss Jessica Stanley."

The two girls curtsied to one another and Miss Stanley took Isabella's other arm so that she was led along between them. "I am so happy that you have come, Miss Swan!" The girl's bright eyes, which also matched her mother's, flashed over Isabella's person excitedly, "And you are wearing the most lovely dress, Miss Swan! Mother, I should like to have a gown made in it's exact image, is it not becoming?"

"Indeed, it is most becoming. Miss Weber said the same thing to her mother as Miss Swan was coming in."

"Angela is here then?" Miss Stanley was kind enough to ignore Isabella's blush at the attentions she was receiving over her simple gown, and looked past her as she addressed her mother, "Pray, where is she? She was nearly as anxious for Miss Swan's coming as I! Have you not met Miss Weber, Miss Swan? She is my particular friend, and she is so anxious to meet you."

"No, I have not had that pleasure." Isabella admitted.

"We must remedy that immediately!" Miss Stanley abruptly turned around so that Isabella's arm fell from Mrs. Stanley's. "Excuse us Mother, we must find her at once, I can not delay her pleasure in meeting our guest a moment longer."

Mrs. Stanley did not seem to mind the abrupt dismissal she received from her daughter, and replied good humouredly, "Very well, I must see to the roast in any case, dinner will be served very shortly I hope." She then disappeared.

"This way, Miss Swan." Miss Stanley led her to a small gathering of people her own age, and Isabella felt a tremor of apprehension at having to meet so many at once.

Miss Angela Weber turned out to be a tall girl in a pale pink gown who possessed an abundance of honey colored hair that was done up in a fashion that Isabella had never seen before, but found quite lovely. She seemed quiet by nature, and Isabella liked her at once. People of a quiet nature were always most attractive to Isabella by way of company, as she shared their preference for tranquil observation. Though rarely speaking to one another, she found that amid couplings of quiet people there was a sort of comfortable companionship born from a shared, if not acknowledged, appreciation for peace and contemplation.

Miss Weber's kind shyness was thrown into sharp contrast with the young lady standing next to her, whom Miss Stanley introduced as a Miss Mallory. An unpleasant sort of girl with a pinched nose and a protruding chin that never ceased to move up and down with the constant stream of silly speech coming from it's owner. There were two other young ladies, whose names Isabella forgot in the instant that they were introduced, due to a distraction in that moment that drew her attention.

Up to this point, Isabella had taken little notice of her surroundings, her attention instead being engaged in the process of being constantly led about the room and introduced to so many eager strangers. Now, however, as Miss Mallory chattered in the background, she was given the opportunity to look around and, for the first time that evening, observe her surroundings. Miss Mallory's constant inconsequential babble had little to do with anyone but herself, and did not require either response or encouragement from the other girls present, so Isabella soon found her mind drifting away from the trivial conversation to take in the gathering.

The room was very large and elegantly arranged. It was now a little less crowded, as many of the men had retired into another part of the house to await dinner's service. However, there were still a few young men left amongst the women, employed in entertaining one or another of the young ladies present.

Apart from them, stood a small group of young people, and Isabella found herself watching them. At first, she thought that her attention had been drawn to their group because there were three young men amongst them, and their brown and grey coats stood out against the various colors of the gowns in the room. On closer observation, however, Isabella realized that it was the gentlemen and young ladies themselves that had caught her eye.

There were five in number, standing a little apart from the other gatherings, not in close conversation with one another nor did they even seem to acknowledge each other's presence.

They were none of them similar in looks; of the gentlemen, one was tall with light hair, one very large and muscular, and the third slight, in comparison to his large companion, but solid and angular, with bronze colored hair that seemed to be in slight disarray. They had two young ladies with them, one was petite, with dark hair, and the other, in contrast, tall and regal, with hair that, even pulled up, obviously rivaled Miss Weber's in volume.

For all of these differences, however, there were even more similarities between them that Isabella found both perplexing and without obvious explanation. They were all very fair skinned, even the two that she would have thought to have a dark complexion due to the shades of their hair. The pale complexions were not sickly pale like that of someone unaccustomed to being out of doors, though the shadows beneath each of their eyes would suggest otherwise; it was the flawless lack of color that could easily be found in any of the marble busts in her late Uncle's house. Looking only at their faces and unmoving lips, she could have easily seen them as missing pieces of his collection; this notion unsettled her, and she forced her eyes downward to take observation and perhaps find clues for their appearances in their attire. They were dressed elegantly, but not finely. They moved gracefully but without airs. It was none of these things, however, that made Isabella gasp and rendered her incapable of looking away. It was the beauty of each individual that could not be denied or ignored, and the beauty of the group together that was overwhelming.

"Miss Swan, you look unwell. Are you quite alright?" One of the name-less young ladies' voices interrupted her thoughts and drew her attention back to her companions.

Isabella quickly regained her composure as best she could and replied, "I am quite well, thank you."

"She is distracted," said Miss Mallory, catching Isabella's glance as it left them again, returning to the source of her previous interest. Miss Mallory looked about the room and continued playfully, "by a young man perhaps? Miss Swan, has one of our young men caught your fancy already?"

Miss Mallory smiled slyly and nodded toward a young man standing next to the mantel, slightly to the left of the marble-esque group. He was smiling widely at them, his gaze resting chiefly on Isabella with an undisguised and curious look. "Is it Mr. Newton perhaps?" She continued, "It seems that he is equally anxious to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan. Miss Stanley, shall we not take it upon ourselves to see that they are introduced? I am sure Mr. Newton would be grateful for the gesture."

Miss Stanley blushed noticeably. Despite this, she kept her composure and answered, "I believe Miss Swan's eyes were fixed in another direction." She replied calmly, but with noticeable effort. "Perhaps she was watching the door; I cannot imagine why we have not yet sat down for dinner!"

In a moment of bravery, Isabella decided to asked about the pale young people. "Might I inquire as to the identity of the group standing near the door?"

The girls let out a collective sigh as they turned to find the source of her curiosity. Miss Stanley shook her head. "Is that what caught your attention? It does not surprise me. Those are three of the Cullen siblings, standing with Miss Hale and Mr. Whitlock. The elder Mr. Cullen, their half-brother, and his wife are not attending tonight. Miss Hale is Mrs. Cullen's cousin and the tall gentleman beside her is Mr. Whitlock, a friend of Mr. Emmett Cullen."

"Which is the one with the reddish brown hair?" Isabella inquired further. Something in the young man's presence both unsettled and intrigued her.

"That is Mr. Edward Cullen, the youngest." Miss Stanley informed her.

In that moment the young man's gaze fixed on them, as though he had heard his name being said, however he was much to far away for that to be true. Still, there was something questioning in his brief look. Isabella tried to look away quickly, so as not to appear rude in her stare, but too late; his eyes flickered from her neighbor to herself before she had a chance to advert her gaze.

"Is he not the handsomest man in the room?" Miss Stanley inquired of Isabella, while the other girls were encouraged by Miss Mallory to return their attention to her description of the white gown she was having made for the Spring Ball. Isabella nodded in assent to Miss Stanley's observation. "It is a shame that none of us young ladies are delightful enough in his view to attract notice," she continued, a little darkly. "It is a useless endeavor to attempt to obtain his regard, Miss Swan, let me caution you; he and his family are much above our notice, though I am sure we are flattered by their presence here this evening."

Isabella smiled at this, and detected some bitterness in her friend's words. She made the assumption that Miss Stanley must have at some point in the past, been slighted by Mr. Edward Cullen, and wondered if this was enough in her estimation to view his entire family with disdain, or the tone of dislike Isabella detected in her voice was born from another source altogether. Could simple jealousy prompt such a reaction? She did not know enough of Miss Stanley's character to draw a firm conclusion, but thought perhaps it was likely.

"I know nothing of that family," Isabella remarked carefully, hoping to draw more details from her companion. She looked again at the subjects of their discussion, and met Mr. Edward Cullen's inquisitive gaze once more. He frowned slightly before looking away and murmuring something to the large dark haired young man beside him.

Miss Jessica Stanley accepted the invitation obligingly and in the next few moments Miss Swan was acquainted with all of the known particulars of the family and their short history in the county. Nothing in the report she received provided an explanation for their oddly beautiful appearances and detached behavior. These disconcerting questions were second to only one larger question which occupied her mind in that moment.

She was left to ask herself on the way to their long awaited dinner, why she so desperately wanted to know.


	4. Chapter 4

"_He was silent and grave." SENSE & SENSIBILITY by Jane Austen_

~*~

First Impressions

Part 2

~*~

The evenings in Hertfordshire were much colder than Isabella was accustomed to. She found herself, on the way to the dining room, wishing for her shawl as a measure of defense against the chilly draft of the large house. Despite the number of people that occupied the dwelling and the fires burning in every visible hearth, Isabella still found herself chilled to the point of discomfort, and decided to retrieve her shawl before rejoining the party in the dining room.

She excused herself from Miss Stanley's company and tried, in her haste, to determine the best course for returning to the entrance of the house. It was built in a style that, though very large and elegant, was unfamiliar to her. A sense of direction, moreover, was not a strong attribute in Isabella's possession, and she therefore found herself after only a few moments, very lost indeed.

She began to grow quite frantic after spending nearly a quarter of an hour amongst deserted hallways and empty rooms. She began to fear that dinner would already be served by the time she found her way and therefore she abandoned all thoughts of her shawl, and altered her intentions only to finding the dining room as quickly as possible. She had not the smallest hope that anyone would overlook her absence at the table, and she dreaded the thought of entering the room after everyone else was already seated, or worse, served. Nothing could be done about it, and after another wrong turn and unintended exploration of Mr. Stanley's study, the question of finding the dining room became, not _when,_ but _if_.

She at last heard the murmuring of many voices together and the clinking of silver coming from one of the rooms toward the end of yet another identically situated hallway. She hurried forward, oblivious to the man who had just exited one of the rooms along her path, and nearly knocking him to the ground in her haste.

"Oh! I beg your pardon!" She exclaimed, turning an even darker shade of scarlet when she realized that he was not a servant, but a fellow guest.

"Don't trouble yourself, my dear," he replied kindly, unnecessarily brushing dust from his coat. He was a man of middle age, with a balding head and kind eyes which examined Isabella through a pair of spectacles. He bowed and spoke. "I shall venture to assume, my dear, that you are the long awaited Miss Isabella Swan."

Isabella blushed deeper at this description of her arrival, but responded politely. "I am."

"I am Mr. Alexander Banner, Miss Swan, an old friend of your Father's."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Banner," Isabella replied, "And please allow me to apologize once again for…"

Mr. Banner raised his hand, "Nonsense my dear, it is all forgotten. I understand completely the circumstances under which you were hurrying, for you see Miss Swan, I myself am also late."

Isabella smiled, and blushed again. She decided at once, that she liked his friend of her Father's and took the arm he offered.

"Shall we go in together? I find that in these circumstances, it is a comfort to have someone with which to share the attention. I find myself in this situation quite often, you see, the residents of Forks have long since learned not to wait upon me for any reason. My interest in the studies of the science of biology renders me easily distracted, and when an object of such study has my attention, I'm afraid the concept of time is quite lost on me. Come, Miss Swan, we shall say that I kept you from the company with my description of a Frenchman's new concept of elements. Are you familiar with it?"

She replied that she was not, and was so engrossed in Mr. Banner's definition of the concept, that she nearly forgot to be embarrassed upon their entry to the room.

The gentlemen rose to their feet, and Isabella was saved from explanation by Mr. Banner, who made apologies for both of them and led her to one of the two empty seats at the enormous table. Now many of the faces present were familiar to her. Miss Stanley was seated next to her Father, who smiled at her from his end of the table. Isabella was disappointed to see that neither of the two empty chairs were near him. Isabella recognized the gentlemen sitting beside on of the empty seats as Mr. Edward Cullen, by his unusual hair.

On their approach, Isabella noticed a change in Mr. Cullen's posture and a slight stiffening of his shoulders. Mr. Banner pulled back her seat, before taking the empty one at her side. A glance in the direction of Mr. Cullen revealed an alarmingly furious expression. Isabella blushed still deeper, and wondered what she might have done in so brief a time to offend the gentleman.

Conversation resumed, and Isabella tried to focus her attention on the continued explanation of Antoine-Laurent de Lavoisier's new concepts in science as they pertained to biology. She was distracted, however, by the unceasing odd behavior of the young man beside her. His excessively rigid posture and hostile expression did not improve with the continuation of the meal. He kept one fist clenched on the table, and seemed to be leaning away, as though he were attempting to put as much distance between himself and Isabella as was possible under the circumstances. Isabella noticed that he did not eat.

"…and so you see Miss Swan, Lavoisier has declared that even something as simple as the air we breathe, is actually made up of several different substances. Those substances which can not be separated or broken down are elements. He has discovered oxygen to be one of them. It is the substance we, as living creatures, depend on most for survival. It is really quite a fascinating idea…" Mr. Banner was interrupted after a moment by Mrs. Cope, who was sitting on the gentleman's other side.

"My nephew, Mr. Yorkie, is also quite interested in the subject, Mr. Banner. He is out of our hearing just now, but perhaps you will be kind enough to relate these studies to him, I'm sure he would be most interested and much obliged. That is, if he is not in conversation with Miss Swan… they are acquainted you see. I introduced Miss Swan to my nephew upon her arrival. He was the first young man present to make her acquaintance…"

Isabella had a difficult time paying attention to these exchanges, and was pleased that she was not called upon form a response. She kept her eyes down and tried not to observe the person on her other side. Mr. Cullen never relaxed his hand, nor did he even seem to be breathing. Isabella found his manners excessively rude and she endured the remainder of the dinner with increasing discomfort and confusion.

She recalled Miss Stanley's bitter description of Mr. Cullen and his family and decided, on second thought, that perhaps her judgments of Mr. Edward Cullen were not those of a cynic. Isabella decided that if she were to form her opinions based on this first impression; she was inclined to think Miss Stanley's views to be quite accurate.

The meal seemed never to end. When Mr. Stanley finally suggested the party retire to the parlor, Mr. Edward Cullen was the first one to abandon his chair and accept the invitation to exit the room, leaving his plate mostly untouched. He left the room with great haste and without ever offering Isabella so much as a smile of welcome.

Mrs. Stanley approached Isabella as she rose slowly from her chair, and brought with her the young man whom Miss Mallory had identified before, much to Miss Stanley's apparent displeasure, as being Mr. Michael Newton.

Isabella complimented Mrs. Stanley on the fine dinner, though she could not have told her what it was that she had eaten, distracted as she had been by Mr. Edward Cullen's dark looks. Mrs. Stanley seemed quite pleased in any case.

"Miss Swan, this is Mr. Michael Newton, he has expressed a desire to be introduced to you."

The introduction was made, and then Mrs. Stanley excused herself.

Mr. Newton smiled and offered her his arm when Mrs. Stanley departed from their company. Mr. Michael Newton seemed quite friendly and obliging, as he escorted her into the next room with the rest of the party. He obviously did not share Mr. Edward Cullen's unfavorable manner nor did he possess the young man's unpleasant demeanor.

"The rest of my family will be happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan. They are not present this evening, but I know that my Mother has hopes of calling on you in the next day or two."

"I shall look forward to receiving her," Isabella replied truthfully.

"You are very kind." Mr. Newton was easy to converse with. He entertained her with stories of his elder brother's expedition to the Indies, which is what prevented him from attending. She had nearly forgotten Mr. Edward Cullen's unpleasantness during dinner, until the name Cullen was brought up in their conversation the next moment.

"…I am told the insects in that part of the world are quite a nuisance and sometimes their sting can be very dangerous indeed. I believe that gentleman there, Mr. Emmett Cullen, has been on a similar such expedition, though I haven't had occasion to hear of it first hand. His youngest brother, Mr. Edward Cullen, was seated next to you during dinner, I believe. He was quite silent wasn't he, I wonder what prompted such behavior?"

This confirmed Isabella's fears that Mr. Cullen had been acting strangely. She decided to answer vaguely in hopes of changing the subject.

"Was he the gentleman seated to my left? I do not know. We were not introduced, I did not speak to him."

"Well, he is not the friendliest of men…" Mr. Newton turned to her and smiled, "Had _I_ the pleasure of being seated next to you Miss Swan, I believe I should have taken advantage of it."


	5. Chapter 5

"_She is a most amiable girl; such a superior understanding! How fond all the family are of her; she is evidently the general favourite; and how much she must be admired in a place such as this. Is not she?" James (hehehe) talking about Isabella (hahaha) in NORTHANGER ABBEY, by Jane Austen._

**~*~**

**Posts and Preconceived Notions**

~*~

"_My Dearest Aunt,_

_It has been over a fortnight since I left you and I cannot believe so much time has passed! I hope this letter finds you well, that your journey into ----shire was pleasant and uneventful, and that my Uncle's brother with his wife and children are all in good health. __I know that it must be many months before we see each other again, and I don't wish to make either of us miserable by admitting to you that I miss you very much, but I do, Aunt, I miss you most dreadfully. I take comfort in that we are both among those who love us; it makes the parting almost bearable. _

_I have met many pleasant people among my Father's acquaintances. The society is limited, but it does not follow that it is unvarying or tiresome as, I admit only to you, __Aunt, I expected. I have visitors almost every day, so many, in fact, that I have not had much occasion yet to return the many visits I have received. I hope to do so in the coming days. There are several young ladies with_ _whom I believe I shall establish intimate and lasting friendships. I feel very welcome here._

_I am sitting in my room at this moment, and in looking out of my window, I can observe the passing of people on the road. There is a small pasture beside it where my horse grazes. I smile as I imagine your surprise at hearing this news, but it is true, I have a horse of my own, a gift from my father upon my homecoming. It is a kind and gentle creature who_ _I call Darcy. I ride him nearly every day, for exercise, and to become better acquainted with the roads and countryside. I do not worry about losing my way, as I always did with Uncle's horse. (You must recall the ride I took into the east wood call upon Miss Stein? Such fear I hope never to experience again! Though in looking back I can now find it almost amusing. Darcy knows the landscape, I believe, better than anyone. Twince_ _already I have lost my direction, and in both instances I allowed the horse to find the way and he did so without hesitation. It may sound silly to you, but Darcy and I have developed an understanding between us. I am very fond of him._

_On the whole, but for longing for your company, I am very happy in my situation here. I believe my Father is pleased to have me with him again. Please write to me soon and tell me how you are. I live in daily anticipation of news from you._

_Father sends his affection and best wishes. I send my love._

_Your affectionate niece_

_Isabella"_

Isabella read through the letter once more and then sealed it. She considered giving it to Hannah to be posted, but seeing as the weather was fine, she decided to take it herself. She would call on Miss Weber along the way. It was past time to repay the visit.

She thought back to the morning of the day after the dinner at the Stanley's. She had never received so many visitors at one time in all her life.

She had not slept well. She could not get used to the sounds of her new residence. The constant rustle of the tree outside her window, the patter of rain on the roof, and the wind and AS it whistled through the eves. Even if the noises of the night were enough to keep her awake, they were nothing next to the turmoil that was going on in her head. Thoughts of the Cullen family, Miss Stanley's explanation for them, and Mr. Edward Cullen's behavior toward her at dinner could not be ignored. She did not expect to be loved by everyone, nor did she require the same attentions paid to her by the mysterious gentleman as she had enjoyed from Mr. Newton, Mr. Crowley, and many of the young ladies she had met. She did not, however, like to be slighted and felt she deserved, at the very least, the minimal manners that common courtesy prescribed. She was angry that this young man would offer no explanation for his apparent disdain for her. She was, more than anything, angry at herself for letting this one man's bad behavior cloud her memories of what otherwise would have been a very agreeable evening.

So it was that she awoke the next morning, still very tired and with a hint of a headache. She met her father in the hall before the breakfast chamber and he offered her his arm and led her to her chair.

"How did you enjoy your evening?" He asked. "I believe you made several new acquaintances."

Isabella agreed that she had, and that her evening had been very pleasant. Then, she decided there was no other way to stay her curiosity, and so she decided to ask, "Are you very well acquainted with the Cullen family? The family of the gentleman I sat next to at the table?"

"I am not very well acquainted with the younger siblings, but their brother, Mr. Carlisle Cullen, is a very fine man. I have high regard for him."

"They didn't appear… that is, Miss Stanley seemed to find their situation as perhaps lacking in propriety. I thought… What do you know of it?" Isabella felt herself blushing and became confused in trying to deliver her next inquiry. She had merely wanted confirmation of the story Miss Stanley had told her, but now that she was in her father's presence, she found herself wishing to know his opinions on the matter as well.

Her father shook his head and seemed angry. "As I have said, Mr. Cullen is a fine man. He had no obligation to take in all of those young relatives and claim responsibility for them. He did it out of honor, and instead of disregarding the generous nature of his actions, I wish that society would grant him the respect and credit he deserves. Had they grown up among us, were people used to seeing them among us, or worse, were they poor and plain, they would not be so harshly judged by our society. However, because they are new, well mannered, handsome and wealthy, people are far too eager to find fault with them. I know that you have sense enough not to be led astray by idle gossip and ignorant opinions. I'm sure you will grant them the credit courtesy they deserve of allowing your estimation of them to be determined by their behavior and manners to yourself alone, and not by the measure of others."

"Yes Father." She had never heard him make such a long speech, and it humbled her. He was absolutely right; she must not be persuaded by idle gossip. Although, in remembering Mr. Edward Cullen's behavior, she suspected the gossip was not entirely idle.

"Would you mind telling me what you know of their situation? I trust you are a reliable source for the information?" She said it teasingly, and was pleased when her father's frown was replaced by a smile.

"I should hope so," he chuckled, before making clear the situation of the family living in the Mason House, "Mr. Carlisle Cullen was the only child to his father's first wife, who died giving birth to him. Many years later, his father remarried and his next wife had three children of her own. Mr. Emmett Cullen, Miss Alice Cullen, and Mr. Edward Cullen are Mr. Carlisle Cullen's half siblings you see. Their father and mother died when Mr. Cullen was a man of three and twenty. His young siblings, having no other relative in a position to take them in, relied on his kindness in providing for them, as he was heir to their father's estate. It was a very kind gesture, one that he should be respected, instead of censured, for."

"What of the other two young people with them? Mr. Whitlock and Miss Hale?"

"Miss Hale is a cousin of Mrs. Cullen, and Mr. Whitlock is a good friend of Mr. Emmett Cullen. It is my understanding that Mr. Whitlock will be visiting until the spring, and there is no time yet determined for the conclusion of Miss Hale's visit. I hope, though, that they feel welcome to stay among our society for as long as they wish."

In this light, it did not seem an odd situation at all. Isabella felt a twinge of regret and was a little ashamed for so readily agreeing with Miss Stanley's assessment of the family. From this perspective, there seemed to be nothing wrong.

Since the dinner at the Stanley's nearly a fortnight ago, she had been called on by nearly all of her Father's acquaintances, and therefore almost the entire town. Mrs. Newton had been first, calling on her that morning, as promised, with her son who accompanied her. Mr. Newton had been all politeness and attentiveness, and his mother had been very charming indeed.

The two visitors had been barely seated, and her Father called from his study to help her receive them, when the two Miss Stanleys also arrived to thank her for attending their "humble gathering." The eldest Miss Stanley left little to do by way of entertaining the guests, as she kept the conversation flowing easily by calling attention often to whatever seemed to have Mr. Newton's attention at the time.

"Mr. Newton is admiring your view I believe, Miss Swan. I have always said the Rainier House is situated very picturesquely from the road." Or, "I believe Mr. Newton is fond of your horse, Miss Swan." Or, "Why Mr. Newton, how thoughtful of you to build up the fire! I believe Miss Swan was getting chilled."

Isabella spent much of the morning trying to determine Miss Stanley's agenda as it applied to Mr. Newton and herself. He seemed to be the sole object of Miss Stanley's attention, though there was little affection apparent on Mr. Newton's side. Her first notion, that perhaps they were engaged, was soon put to rest as she observed Mr. Newton's indifferent attitude toward the young lady. Though she had suspicions that it was not for lack of trying on the part of Miss Stanley.

An hour passed before the first visitors departed. Not ten minutes passed before Mrs. Cope was announced and led into the room in the company of Mr. Tyler Crowley and his mother. Miss Weber came next, and Isabella was sorry that she came in the midst of all of the rest of her visitors. She had wanted some time to get to know Miss Weber quietly, as she felt as though they would be good friends.

By the end of the first afternoon she was very tired indeed, and her head ached painfully. In the days that followed, she had many more visits. In the weeks that followed, she was invited to many more gatherings. She was eager to find out more about the Cullen family, and anxious to be in Mr. Edward Cullen's company again so that she could determine whether or not his manners on their first encounter had anything at all to do with her, or if it was just his natural and unpleasant manner.

She always entered a room apprehensively, nervous but determined to unravel the mystery of his dark looks and cold demeanor at the Stanley's dinner. Always there was a flutter in her stomach, and a flush on her cheek as she searched the room for him. Never was he present. It was silly, she told herself, to think that his continued absence had anything whatever to do with her.

Yet it seemed she could not help it.

Isabella refused to admit to herself, as she watched the groom saddling Darcy for her ride to Miss Weber's, that she had a third reason for going out that afternoon. Her letter to her Aunt needed posting, it was true. It was also high time she returned Miss Weber's call. The fact that, in directing her to the Weber's home, her father happened to mention that it was directly to the west of Manor House, which couldn't be missed as you had to go directly past it on the road… No, indeed, the fact that she would have to pass directly in front of the Cullen's residence had nothing whatsoever, to do with the matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the reviews my loves. And I'm sorry I haven't been very friendly up until now. For some reason I was putting on airs and making this a very formal relationship, but I've been thinking that we should be friends. I mean, we obviously have a lot in common; we share an interest in Jane Austen and in Twilight. Surely that is all the foundation that we need for a long, lasting, and meaningful friendship. Right?

I welcome reader input and opinions and ideas. I'm currently wondering what to name Edward's horse. Any suggestions? Bennet? Dashwood? Wickham? Fairfax? Buhler? Buhler? Anyone?

If you can't guess what scene from Twilight this parallels then I haven't done my job and I should be voted off the island.

Oh right, and I don't own Twilight… and I don't think I'm Jane Austen who is responsible for the chapter quotes. Blah, disclaimer, blah, disclaimer, blah.

Thanks to RosieWilde for being the greatest beta ever!

~*~

"_I always thought him… impertinent and disagreeable, and now he is grown worse than ever." LADY SUSAN by Jane Austen_

~*~

Pride & Prejudice

~*~

The day was indeed fine, despite the ever-present cover of clouds. Isabella found the roads along the way to Miss Angela Weber's residence to be dreadful. In two places they were almost completely flooded.

As fond as she was of her horse, Darcy, she found fault in him in that he resisted every instance which resulted in his hooves becoming wet. It was an undesirable quality for an animal in his line of employment, residing in this part of the world. Isabella found herself in the disagreeable position of being obliged to dismount and to coax him through the dampest portions of the journey. She was discomfited, and was it not for his gentle nature, and the fact that she came across none of her acquaintances along the way, she would not have condoned such behavior.

Darcy was displaying this manner of his nature when they approached Mason House, so that any hopes Isabella entertained of hurrying past, with perhaps only one or two curious glances, were dashed. The horse simply refused to move forward, and neither encouraging words nor gentle prodding could convince him to carry her on. She dismounted with a resigned sigh.

It was as she was struggling through the dirt, grasping Darcy's bridle tightly, as much for support of herself as to lead him forward, that she sensed _his_ silent observation.

With flushed cheeks she raised her eyes to grandeur of Mason House and was met with the humiliating prospect of being under the scrutiny of Mr. Edward Cullen, who was holding the bridle of his own fine grey animal and coming toward her. His casual stance and the manner in which he watched her vain struggle with apparent amusement infuriated her. Though not as much as the realization that he would make no gentlemanly attempt to assist her, but instead would allow her to struggle in vain as he passed. He departed without a word; without as much as a nod of recognition. Such manners she had never witnessed before. Such arrogance and such pride had, until that moment, been beyond her imagination.

Her sentiments in regard to the disagreeable gentleman (if such an inappropriate label _must_ be applied!) were once again what they were upon her first hearing of him at the Stanley's party. The prejudice that she had recently felt ashamed for during her discussions of Mr. Cullen's history and situation with her father, returned with full force and justification. It was no wonder that he was unpopular in this society, that he was looked upon with general dislike.

So it was that she finally arrived to call upon her friend, with cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment and a dress that looked little better, having a hem that was six inches deep in mud.

~*~

She sat with Miss Weber and her mother for only half of the hour, before taking her leave. Mr. Edward Cullen's behavior caused her much vexation and she felt that she was unfit for company at that moment, and that her afternoon was ruined. Miss Weber was all smiles and politeness, and her mother a very obliging host, but even their warm words and sweet dispositions were not enough to lift Isabella's dreary spirits. All the more so when Mrs. Weber remarked, "How kind of you to call on us today, Miss Swan. We seldom have the pleasure of receiving company when the roads are so disagreeable." The statement brought the afternoons unhappy events to the forefront of Isabella's mind and invited an increase to her ill humor which she took pains to conceal.

Darcy was brought to her, but for the first time since she had acquired him, she was not looking forward to the ride or his silent companionship. She mounted him resentfully. The ride home would not be any more pleasant; the roads, she observed gloomily, were still quite flooded.

Her dignity remained intact until she approached Mason House and Darcy decided that was the distance he was willing to travel voluntarily. Isabella surveyed the surrounding buildings, lingering specifically on the house to her immediate left, and was pleased and relieved that there would be no one around to observe the indignity of her present circumstance. Despite her gentle urgings, Darcy seemed quite determined to linger where he presently abided for the remainder of the evening, and could not be persuaded to move forward.

Isabella, who was patient by nature, had reached her wits end. She earnestly entertained thoughts of walking home alone and leaving the miserable animal where he stood. Deciding that she would miss him, and that her father and his friend Mr. Black would be disappointed, she gave him one last soothing shove and insistent tug on the reins. He whinnied in disagreement, but finally stirred. It was at that moment that Isabella heard the carriage.

The pounding of hooves was coming too swiftly. Isabella whirled around to face the oncoming carriage being drawn forward by a wild-eyed horse that was moving much too speedily toward the place where she stood. There was no time to consider, no time to move, in moments it would be upon her.

"Make haste!" the driver, whom she recognized as Mr. Tyler Crowley, was shouting. "Miss Swan, get out of the way!"

In her panic, she could not find the strength to move her feet, and even if she could have, the mud would have greatly hindered her progress. Time did not slow, though she silently pleaded that it would, and the details of her terrifying situation became clear.

Here was Mr. Crowley's infamous run-way horse, Isabella realized morosely. Her own Darcy had decided in the meantime that he would rather take his chances with damp hooves than to become the object to hinder the progress of the untamed animal that advanced. He apparently decided to leave that particular occupation to his mistress, so he abandoned her and, neighing in distress, fled.

Isabella turned her head aside and just before she pressed her eyes shut, she saw Mr. Edward Cullen watching the horrific scene before him from the entrance of his home. His shocked expression was the last thing she observed before she closed her eyes and waited for either hooves or wheels to be the undignified conclusion of her life.

The abrupt and forceful impact she next felt was not from the direction she had been expecting, but the opposite one entirely. Isabella descended to the ground swiftly and felt her head make painful contact with the road. She was held down by a being that was very hard and cold; she heard a low and un-gentlemanly oath in a voice that was impossible, both not to recognize, and to comprehend. She let her eyes flutter open and found that though she was now out of danger of the wild creature, the wheel of his load was still upon her. Two long white hands became visible and materialized seemingly in an instant before her and the carriage jolted to a stop, the hands fitting providentially into two deep holes where the wood had shattered. The carriage groaned to a rest and there was a brief moment of ringing silence.

"Miss Swan, are you injured?" His voice was tense with concern.

"No," Isabella replied, attempting to regain her composure. "No, I am not injured." She moved to sit upright, but found that Mr. Cullen was holding her tightly.

"Take heed," he advised carefully. "I believe you to have injured your head in the fall."

The truths of his words were confirmed in the next instant when she attempted to shake her head and deny him. She ceased when it ached painfully, a truth which became evident in her expression.

"As I thought." He had the impudence to smile in undisguised satisfaction. He was insufferable.

"Miss Swan!" The frantic voice of Mr. Crowley hindered the continuance of their conversation. "I beg you Miss Swan, please answer me!"

"What is this?" Another voice was heard before Isabella could respond. She recognized the high voice of Mrs. Cope and the rustle of thick skirts. "Mr. Crowley what has happened?" They were blocked from view by the carriage. More voices were heard, but Isabella was distracted from answering by a disturbing realization that was occurring to her.

"Mr. Cullen." She spoke slowly and he released her from his grasp. "How is it that you were able to assist me?"

Mr. Cullen looked bewildered, almost convincingly, and feigned ignorance of her meaning. "I do not understand you."

"How did you get to me so swiftly?" she inquired more directly.

"I was standing quite near you Miss Swan." His expression was one of innocent concern, and he was looking at her with an intensity that for a moment rendered her unable to complete a thought.

By this time, the onlookers and neighbors had been able to draw from Mr. Crowley's frantic explanation that he may have been responsible for Miss Isabella Swan's untimely death, and they frantically circled the carriage to search for and assist her. Conversation with Mr. Edward Cullen, for that moment, was impossible.

Isabella heard Mrs. Cope's order to her nephew, Mr. Eric Yorkie, to fetch Mr. Swan right away. Mr. Weber was asking for Isabella's permission to carry her back to his residence, to be examined by a physician. Her assurances that this was unnecessary were politely ignored, and then they became all the more insistent when Mr. Edward Cullen informed them of a possible injury to her head.

There was another flurry of commotion at this report, and much debate ensued on whether or not it was prudent that she should be moved before the physician, none other that Mr. Edward Cullen's own brother, arrived. He was called to advise them, and the discussion continued on whether she should be moved to the Weber's home immediately, and indeed if any decision should be made before her father's arrival.

Isabella, feeling embarrassed by the unwanted attention, decided to take it upon herself to prove that there was nothing at all wrong with her and attempted to stand. Mr. Cullen laid a restraining hand on her arm.

"Stay still, Miss Swan," he advised, and his voice brought back the memory of their previous argument. She took advantage of the reality that while everyone seemed quite involved in what was best for her well being, her being itself was completely ignored.

"You were just there." She spoke to Mr. Cullen quietly, and nodded her head in the direction of his home where she had last observed him.

"You are mistaken," he replied in an equally hushed, though much more severe, voice.

"I recall it with perfect clarity," Isabella insisted determinedly.

"You are mistaken," he repeated. "You are understandably in a state of shock, Miss Swan, and you have forgotten that I was standing quite near you."

She began to respond with a shake of her head and looked up to find Mr. Cullen looking at her imploringly. "I beg you, Miss Swan."

"Why?" Isabella was becoming increasingly bewildered.

"Now is not the time," he murmured quietly.

"Will you promise to tell me at a later time?" She required an explanation. "If you insist," he replied with apparent anger and frustration.

"I do." She refused to be intimidated, and harvested a frustration of her own. One way or another, she was determined to make sense of these unsettling circumstances.

**A/N:** Don't be shy. Speak up. We're friends now, remember? Any thoughts?


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks again for taking the time to read this story! This chapter is sort of short, but it's better than nothing right?... Right?... aw man. Ok.**

**For those of you who are wondering about my intentions with this story; I intend to stick tightly with the original storyline of Twilight. I want all of the major scenes to be recognizable. However, I also want to play with the characters a little bit, because manipulating _fictional_ people is less risky.**

**Oh, and yeah, the Cullens _are_ still vampires.**

**I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you don't. Let me know if you do.**

"_She spoke from the instinctive wish of delaying shame; she spoke with a resolution which sprung from despair, for she spoke what she did not, could not believe herself." MANSFIELD PARK by Jane Austen_

~*~

**In the Garden**

~*~

Her father determined to transport her home in their carriage under the direction, supervision, and general scrutiny of the company present, which consisted of the better portion of the entire town. He ascertained immediately, to his great relief, that she was not badly injured, that in fact, she seemed wholly unharmed. Mrs. Cope, on the other hand, who insisted on assisting Mr. Swan in administering Isabella's comfort during the short ride, appeared to be operating under the possibility that she may suddenly expire in their midst at any moment, without warning. Despite Isabella's assuring her that she felt quite well, Mrs. Cope would not be content until Isabella followed her suggestion that she recline. Isabella complied and kept her eyes closed, both in an attempt to appear resting, and also to block out the vision she had of the dozens of onlookers walking beside the slowly moving carriage. The humiliation was almost more than she could bear.

When they finally arrived at Rainier House, her father assisted her to her room and then left her to see to the plentiful company downstairs with an assurance from Isabella that she would try to rest. Isabella, much preferring solitude to any sort of attention, made a promised to comply.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon, not in slumber, but in reflecting the events of the day. She was vexed by the circumstances which accompanied these proceedings. She could find no probable explanation for Mr. Cullen's sudden rescue. Even more troublesome to her state of mind, she discovered, was his behavior following these events. The intensity of his gaze and the threat in his voice were at once compelling and terrifying. Why should he take such pains to rescue her under these extraordinary circumstances when it was so obvious that he despised her? What secrets did the gentleman have that made it possible for him to be there so quickly? Why were his feelings toward her so severe? From these troubling thoughts she could find no reprieve.

No explanation could be revealed until she spoke to him, she finally concluded. Somehow, this reality was less than comforting.

~*~

Dr. Cullen examined Isabella the next morning at the request of her father. She was in good health, he reported, and the 'unfortunate accident' left her unharmed. This was a fact that the women of Forks were happy to overlook as they relayed the excitement of the previous afternoon to one another over tea.

"It seems you were very fortunate Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen observed.

"Indeed," she agreed, smiling. "Fortunate that your brother came to my assistance."

"Oh, well… yes, indeed." Dr. Cullen was suddenly involved in gathering his belongings and preparing to take his leave.

Isabella could not quite identify the source of her suspicion, but she also could not help but feel that Mr. Cullen's brother, was a part of the… yet, she didn't even know what it was she suspected them of.

"You must pass along my gratitude to him, Dr. Cullen." Mr. Swan was showing him out.

"I believe he will be along shortly," Dr. Cullen replied. "I suspect you may see him before I do, and then you can have the pleasure of telling him yourself."

Isabella felt herself flush, though she could not think of a reason for it.

~*~

Mr. Swan had promised his friend Mr. Black a game of chess that afternoon. After tea, he gave up on his hopes of seeing Mr. Cullen, and left Isabella at home to call on his friend. It seemed Mr. Edward Cullen was otherwise engaged, or his brother had been mistaken as to his intentions of calling at Rainier House that day.

No sooner had the carriage departed, with her father inside it, when Hannah, flustered and panting, announced that Mr. Edward Cullen was waiting in the parlor downstairs.

The first few minutes of his visit were the most uncomfortable of Isabella's life. After inquiring after her health, and she after his, there was little left to say while they were under the observation of a bright-eyed Hannah and the various other servants who suddenly found the parlor in great need of attention.

He voiced praise for their garden, she informed him that there was a pleasant walk, and in a few minutes they were outside.

Isabella entertained a short-lived and vain hope that Mr. Cullen would bring up his promised explanation on his own, without prompting. He did not.

"I believe, Mr. Cullen," she said quietly after a moment, "that I was promised an explanation."

"What do you require?" he retorted coldly.

"Clarification," she replied promptly, nearly matching his tone.

"I saved your life, Miss Swan." He stopped walking and turned toward her. "I don't owe you anything."

"You promised," she insisted, her temper rising.

"You have injured your head. You are confused."

"I have not, and am not, Mr. Cullen. Will you insult me further?"

"What do you expect from me?"

"The truth and the manners of a gentleman!" Isabella paused to bridle her anger. "My friends and neighbors believe my account of what happened, but I do not take pleasure in concealing from them, what I know to be the truth."

"What do you _believe_ that to be?"

"What I know for certain is that you were nowhere near me as the carriage approached. I saw you in the doorway. It was coming quickly, it was going to crush me and then you were there – Mr. Crowley didn't see you either, so do not attempt to make me believe these recollections are the result of an injury to my head. The carriage was going to run us down, but then you – stopped it with your hands! They went through the side and you lifted it away…" She was well aware of how ridiculous she sounded, and could no longer continue. The anger and humiliation she felt brought tears to her eyes, which she combated by locking her teeth together.

Mr. Cullen was watching her with a tense and defensive, if incredulous, look. His voice was cold. "Are you telling me, Miss Swan, that you believe me to have lifted a carriage off you?" There was something practiced in his tone that renewed her suspicions.

Not trusting her voice, she merely nodded.

"You must know that no one will believe you."

"I have no intentions of telling anyone." She took pains to level her voice. "I simply want the truth."

The emotion in his eyes on hearing this statement was one of surprise. His carefully composed expression wavered. "Then what difference can it make?"

"I'm not comfortable concealing the truth. I require a reason for doing so."

"Will you not simply thank me and go on?"

"Thank you Mr. Cullen," she replied coldly.

"You will not let this go, will you?"

"No."

"Then I hope you are accustomed to disappointment, Miss Swan."

They considered each other in cold silence for a long moment.

"I wonder why you even bothered, Mr. Cullen."

"As do I, Miss Swan."

He let himself out through the gate and was gone in a moment.

Isabella returned to the house trying to recall a time when she had been more angry and failing, somewhat miserably.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, I know this chapter is ridiculously short. Shame on me! I wrote it yesterday and this just seemed like the natural break. I promise, promise, promise a long update soon. I don't want to bore you or waste your time. I thought about making this a two-parter, but I've been so busy and haven't updated in so long I decided that this was better than nothing. Please don't tell me I was wrong.**

**Thanks for the reviews, they make my day! I love that people are reading this. RosieWilde, thanks for beta'ing. Fic_addict, thanks for the thread! If you want to chat about this story you can visit the twilighted forums and talk about it in the FanFiction Alternate Universe forum. Come and say hey!**

_~*~_

"_Everything that I have said or done, for many weeks past, has been with the sole view of marking my adoration of yourself." Mr. Elton to Emma in EMMA by Jane Austen_

~*~

**The Determined Charms of Mr. Crowley**

~*~

Isabella was forced to recount the 'adventures' of that fateful afternoon many, many times in the coming weeks. She wondered that she was asked to recite the details so many times, as it was immediately apparent that the majority of her acquaintances were determined to ignore them. Many absurd accounts came back to her in the weeks that followed. They ranged in variety from that she was first thrown from her own horse before being trampled by Mr. Crowley's, to that she had shown such athletic abilities as to bound out of the way and save herself after leaping over the upset carriage and pushing her own animal away from harm. These accounts were equally laughable in Isabella's eyes: Darcy was far too gentle and she was far from athletic.

No one seemed the least interested in hearing of Mr. Cullen's role in the afternoon's events. Most witnesses could not recall having seen him there at all. Isabella was forced to realize that their overlooking him did not stem from any faults in observation. No indeed, the facts were thrown into sharp relief that she was simply more inclined to notice him than anyone else. No other person had the inclination to observe him as intensely and frequently as did she. This knowledge was in no way comforting, but instead, pitiful.

When in company Isabella was constantly surrounded by curious by-standers eager for a first-hand account of 'the moment that nearly ended her life.' She could not help but notice that Mr. Edward Cullen was not plagued by such a problem. He was, as always, left quite alone, accompanied only by his own unsociable party. None of them, Edward in particular, ever did more than acknowledge her with a nod.

She could only conclude that he regretted his actions. She felt, quite certainly, that he wished he had not come to her rescue.

Aside from the attention she received from the masses, there was one person in particular who seemed determined to pay her particular consideration. Indeed, such unyielding attentiveness she had never experienced before and did not enjoy, nor could she escape. Mr. Crowley was determined to make amends. The polite attentions she had previously enjoyed from Mr. Newton and Mr. Yorkie paled appallingly in comparison to the determined charms of Mr. Crowley. No matter how frequently and sincerely Isabella assured him that she did not hold him at fault for the unfortunate actions of his willful animal, he was quite persistent in holding himself responsible. He was also quite determined to sit next to her at every opportunity in order to communicate these feelings, and to apologize endlessly - and to ask her if she was thirsty, warm enough, could he offer her his carriage for the journey home ("I assure you Miss Swan, it is not the same carriage that my hideous animal nearly ran you over with, nor is it pulled by the same horse. I can't tell you how sorry I am for his behavior, I hold myself completely at fault, I beg your forgiveness…), or if he could do anything to ensure her comfort for the evening.

Isabella found that the more she recounted the story (omitting, as promised, the mysterious circumstances surrounding Mr. Cullen's role) the more in awe she was of the gentleman who had saved her. The first time they met, three days later, she hoped to further their acquaintance. Since their last encounter, Isabella had to admit, that her frustration with her gentleman had faded into something akin to awed gratitude.

She encountered him outside of Newton's store and smiled politely, curtsying. "Good afternoon, Mr. Cullen."

His response should not have surprised nor should it have disappointed her. His mere nod in passing ought to have been expected.

This was the manner of her last contact with the man. They were many times together in company, but never did they speak. Isabella learned to cease questioning why this should upset her, and learned to live with her discontent.

Her letters to her aunt must have alerted the woman to Isabella's displeasure and she inquired in her next letter as to her niece's happiness. Isabella assured her that it was merely the dreary weather that affected her spirits. Her aunt replied that if this were true, Isabella would do better to convince her father to move to India, or suffer the consequences of having an eternally unhappy daughter.

She knew her aunt could not know that there was a second solution. Mr. Cullen could himself move away and then she imagined she could find some peace. After a moment's consideration she recognized the flaws of this plan. It was Mr. Cullen's absence that had her anxious and despondent in the first place; perhaps not an absence of person, but of character and veiled secrets. For the time being, she saw no solution to her woes, but took pains in the meantime to write very bright letters to her worrisome aunt.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This chapter has given me some trouble. I needed some sort of gathering to parallel the La Push trip so that Bella can meet Jake. I also wanted to make some parallels dealing with all those lovely boys asking Bella to prom, and it's time to mend the bridge between Edward and Bella too. So… this is a sort of convoluted melding of all of the above. Hopefully you'll forgive me the liberties I've taken. I hope you enjoy it. I had fun, as I always do, writing it.**

**Sorry about the delay. I got caught up in another fic, and my closet twilighter-ness has been holding me back lately, since my husband is laid off of work. He's been home a lot, and since he doesn't know about this little secret of mine, it's been hard to steal time to work on this…**

**...Okay, I wrote the above over a year ago. I can't believe I let this happen. In chapter 8 I promised repeatedly a long and speedy update. I'm sorry that I lied to you. I don't deserve you. Please forgive me.**

**I had a baby. Is that a good excuse? Not good enough, but it's all I've got.**

**I'm sorry this chapter is rough. It's probably going to take me a minute to get into the swing of things.**

**I've lost my beta. RosieWilde, if you're reading this, where are you?**

**A million thanks to miaokuancha for stepping in for this. You're my hero bb.**

* * *

"_Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter that public ones. But _now_ we may be silent." Lizzy to Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen_

**The First Two Dances**

The fortnight that followed Isabella's encounter with Mr. Edward Cullen was extremely vexing. Mr. Cullen maintained his indifferent attitude toward her whenever they were in company together, which Bella counted to be eight times since the "unfortunate accident" involving Mr. Tyler Crowley's horse.

Good news reached her one afternoon, however, and eased, be it ever so slightly, the nervous state in which she constantly found herself and which she attributed to Mr. Cullen's odd behavior and evident abhorrence.

Miss Jessica Stanley and Miss Angela Weber came for a visit with the tidings of a public ball to be held within the week. It was to take place in the neighboring village of La Push, which Isabella recalled to be the residence of her father's good friend, Mr. William Black.

Miss Stanley could hardly contain her excitement as she relayed to Isabella all of the particulars.

"It has been too long since we had a ball." She sipped her tea with relish as she spoke, "Indeed, I can scarcely remember the last such gathering I attended. You must remind me Angela, when was our last ball?"

"Nearly a month ago," her friend replied obligingly, "at the Mallory's. You wore your –"

"That has put me in mind of another bit of news," Miss Stanley interrupted, rather rudely Isabella thought. Angela did not seem to take offense however. Isabella suspected she was accustomed to it.

"Miss Lauren Mallory has already been secured by Mr. Mansfield for the first two dances. I should suspect we shall be receiving the same attentions as the ball approaches. Miss Swan, have you any hopes of a particular partner?"

Isabella blushed and wondered that Miss Stanley could be so bold. They were not yet well enough acquainted for her to be comfortable in revealing her hopes for the evening in casual conversation.

"I'm sure Miss Swan would like to become better acquainted with the gentlemen of our society before she entertains such hopes," Miss Weber suggested, much to Isabella's gratitude.

"Well I for one, expect an offer from Mr. Newton. He hinted, when last we met, that a dance between us was long overdue." Miss Stanley laughed at Isabella's expression. "Do not look so shocked at my manners, Miss Swan. I simply do not see the sense in concealing my feelings. However, I would not speak such things had I not absolute confidence in the outcome, so I shall venture to predict that Mr. Newton will ask me for the first two dances. Moreover, I should invite you to count upon it."

Isabella found the news of the ball to be particularly welcome for two reasons.

The first was that she hoped the anticipation of the gathering would serve as a distraction to all her acquaintances from the account that continued to circulate of her mishap many weeks past. She conjured the possibility that news of the ball would soon be the center of all conversation, and her embarrassing encounter with Mr. Crowley's horse might finally be forgotten.

Her second source of relief lay in the fact that she knew her father was to be occupied in town on the evening in question. With him away, she would be without a chaperone and therefore quite unable to attend the ball. That the ball should at the same time divert attention away from her uncomfortable mishap and also fall on a date when she could with perfect courtesy avoid appearing at all was so extraordinarily fortunate as to appear blessed by a higher power.

For the moment, Isabella concealed this knowledge from her two friends, not wishing to deject them from their excitement about the coming evening. They all spent the remainder of the visit discussing dresses, whether or not Miss Stanley required new gloves, and whom Mr. Newton might engage for the third and forth dance. (Seeing as he would be engaged for the first two to Miss Stanley, of course.)

The next day brought a visit from Mr. Newton to the Swan residence. He sat with Isabella's father in the library for the better part of an hour, and it was surely only by the most fortuitous of circumstances that he crossed paths with Isabella on his way out.

"How are you Miss Swan?" Mr. Newton bowed deeply before receiving his hat from Hannah as he prepared to take his leave.

"Very well Mr. Newton, how is your mother?"

"My mother is quite well Miss Swan, thank you. Have you heard our good news of the approaching ball?"

"Yes. Miss Stanley and Miss Weber were kind enough to bring me tidings of it yesterday."

"Excellent, excellent." He nervously brushed at his coat. "I wonder, Miss Swan, if you would do me the honor of reserving the first two dances."

Isabella felt pity for Miss Stanley when she heard the words, and was flattered by the request. She was also relieved, however, to have an acceptable reason to refuse him.

"How very kind, Mr. Newton, but I'm afraid I will be unable to attend that evening."

"I'm sorry to hear it." He colored slightly, but soon regained his composure. "Perhaps you know of another young lady in need of a partner."

"I believe Miss Stanley is unengaged at present, and would be pleased with the invitation."

"Miss Stanley." His voice and expression made Isabella suspect that the prospect of reserving Jessica Stanley for the first two dances was one that had not heretofore occurred to him. "Yes indeed."

The door was open, and there was nothing hindering him from taking his leave. Isabella saw him off from the porch and noticed, as she turned to retreat into the house, that Mr. Cullen was passing and seemed to be amused by something or other. Isabella let out a huff and closed the door.

She was invited to tea with Mrs. Yorkie and Miss Cope.

Mr. Yorkie was also at home when she arrived, and was just preparing to entertain a group of young men who were coming for a shoot.

"We have a fine day for it," he informed her joyfully, as he escorted her into the parlor. "My new retriever is very well trained and I believe quite prepared for the day. We shall see how he does."

Isabella congratulated Mr. Yorkie on having such a fine animal. As he continued to regale her with his anticipation of the day's activities, she dearly hoped that his mother and aunt would present themselves soon, ere she find herself contending alone with an entire group of young men, in conversation on a topic about which she had little interest and less knowledge.

"There is a horse approaching." Mr. Yorkie observed, peering through the parlor window. "I believe it is Mr. Emmett Cullen and his brother, Mr. Edward Cullen."

Isabella sat straighter and hoped that the women would come down before the two men were let into the house.

"While we are alone, Miss Swan, I had something particular I wanted to ask you."

She felt, before he spoke, that she knew what his request would be and prepared a response.

"I should be honored, if you would save me the first two dances at the La Push Ball."

In her nervous state, she was perhaps a little too brief, but it could not be helped. Mr. Edward Cullen was approaching!

"I'm afraid I do not mean to attend that evening." She tried to sound regretful. "But I thank you for the honor of your request."

As though she had been listening, and waiting for the conclusion of the conversation before she revealed herself, Miss Cope entered the room and invited Isabella to take their tea in the garden.

"It is a shame you will not be attending the ball, Miss Swan. All of the young men in the county must feel the loss of it."

"You are very kind," was the response, but the thought was concealed, _"You are very nosy."_

The next day the sun bared his rare and unfamiliar face and Isabella took advantage of the good weather to take a turn about the garden.

As fate would have it, Mr. Tyler Crowley was passing down the lane at the same instant that she came upon the gate and he bowed his head and spoke to her.

"A very fine day, Ms. Swan."

"A very fine day indeed, Mr. Crowley."

"I must apologize once again for the unfortunate circumstances that arose between us above a fortnight ago, Ms. Swan. I cannot –"

"Mr. Crowley please!" Isabella did not think she could stand to hear yet another apology. "You must not vex yourself and we need not speak of it any further. All is forgiven if ever there was anything to forgive. It was an unfortunate accident, and all is well in the end, so do not worry yourself a moment longer."

"I know that there is little I can say to communicate to you how sorry I am, Miss Swan. But if you were to accept my hand for the ball's first two dances, I should be assured that we are again on friendly terms."

"It is not necessary, Mr. Crowley." Isabella sighed inwardly. "I regret to say that though I am honoured by the kindness of your offer, I am unable to attend that evening."

"That is unfortunate." Mr. Crowley's demeanor fell for but a moment before it brightened again. "This shall not dishearten me Miss Swan, for there is always the Spring Ball." And without another word, he continued down the lane.

Isabella observed that among the traffic along the road at that moment was Mr. Cullen's carriage. Among its passengers was a seemingly amused Mr. Edward Cullen. Isabella attempted to assure herself, as she turned away, that his expression had absolutely nothing to do with an exchange he could not possibly have overheard.


End file.
